Poems

By Fanny Kemble

DigiCat Publishing presents to you this special edition of "Poems" by Fanny Kemble. DigiCat Publishing considers every written word to be a legacy of humankind. Every DigiCat book has been carefully reproduced for republishing in a new modern format. The books are available in print, as well as ebooks. DigiCat hopes you will treat this work with the acknowledgment and passion it deserves as a classic of world literature.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DigiCat
• Release date: Aug 15, 2022
• ISBN: 8596547171386

Book preview

Fanny Kemble

Poems

EAN 8596547171386

DigiCat, 2022

Contact: [e-mail]

Table of Contents

POEMS,

LINES WRITTEN AT NIGHT.

VENICE.

TO MISS ---

THE WIND.

EASTERN SUNSET.

FAREWELL TO ITALY.

THE RED INDIAN.

TO ---

SONG.

LAMENT FOR ISRAEL.

A WISH.

SONG.

TO MRS. ---

A WISH.

A SPIRIT’S VOICE.

TO THE DEAD.

SONG.

TO THOMAS MOORE, Esq.

A WISH.

THE MINSTREL’S GRAVE.

TO ---

ON A FORGET-ME-NOT, Brought from Switzerland.

SONNET.

SONNET.

ON A MUSICAL BOX.

TO THE PICTURE OF A LADY.

FRAGMENT.

SONNET.

WRITTEN ON CRAMOND BEACH.

SONNET.

FRAGMENT.

SONNET.

SONNET.

A PROMISE.

A PROMISE.

SONNET.

TO ---

SONNET.

THE VISION OF LIFE.

SONNET.

TO MY GUARDIAN ANGEL.

SONNET.

SONNET.

TO THE SPRING.

TO THE NIGHTINGALE.

SONNET.

TO ---

WOMAN’S LOVE.

TO MRS. ---

AN ENTREATY.

LINES FOR MUSIC.

TO ---

THE PARTING.

SONG.

TO A STAR.

SONNET.

SONNET.

TO ---

SONNET.

LINES, In answer to a question.

A FAREWELL.

TO A PICTURE.

SONNET.

AN INVITATION.

LINES FOR MUSIC.

SONG.

LINES ON A SLEEPING CHILD.

A RETROSPECT.

AN INVOCATION.

A LAMENT FOR THE WISSAHICCON.

TO THE WISSAHICCON.

AN EVENING SONG.

THE DEATH-SONG.

IMPROMPTU.

WRITTEN AFTER LEAVING WEST POINT.

FAITH.

’TIS AN OLD TALE AND OFTEN TOLD.

FRAGMENT. From an epistle written when the thermometer stood at 98° in the shade. * * * * *

AN APOLOGY.

WRITTEN AFTER SPENDING A DAY AT WEST POINT.

SONG.

TO MRS. DULANEY.

IMPROMPTU, Written among the ruins of the Sonnenberg.

LINES, Addressed to the Young Gentlemen leaving the Academy at Lenox, Massachusetts.

THE PRAYER OF A LONELY HEART.

ABSENCE.

RETURN.

LINES, Written in London.

TO ---

TO ---

EPISTLE FROM THE RHINE. To Y---, with a bowl of Bohemian glass.

LINES FOR MUSIC.

SONNET.

SONNET.

SONNET.

SONNET.

SONNET.

SONNET.

Transcribed from the 1844 Henry Washbourne edition by David Price, [e-mail]

POEMS,

Table of Contents

by

FRANCES ANNE BUTLER,

(

late fanny kemble

.)

LONDON:

(

reprinted from the american edition.

)

HENRY WASHBOURNE, NEW BRIDGE STREET,

blackfriars

.

oliver & boyd

,

edinburgh

,

machen & co.

dublin

.

mdcccxliv

.

LONDON:

Printed by

Stewart

and

Murray

,

Old Bailey.

to

KATHARINE SEDGWICK,

this little volume

is

most respectfully

,

gratefully

,

and affectionately

inscribed

.

LINES WRITTEN AT NIGHT.

Table of Contents

August 9th, 1825.

Oh, thou surpassing beauty! that dost live

Shrined in yon silent stream of glorious light!

Spirit of harmony! that through the vast

And cloud-embroidered canopy art spreading

Thy wings, that o’er our shadowy earth hang brooding,

Like a pale silver haze, betwixt the moon

And the world’s darker orb: beautiful, hail!

Hail to thee! from her midnight throne of ether,

Night looks upon the slumbering universe.

There is no breeze on silver-crownëd tree,

There is no breath on dew-bespangled flower,

There is no wind sighs on the sleepy wave,

There is no sound hangs in the solemn air.

All, all are silent, all are dreaming, all,

Save those eternal eyes, that now shine forth

Winking the slumberer’s destinies. The moon

Sails on the horizon’s verge, a moving glory,

Pure, and unrivalled; for no paler orb

Approaches, to invade the sea of light

That lives around her; save yon little star,

That sparkles on her robe of fleecy clouds,

Like a bright gem, fallen from her radiant brow.

VENICE.

Table of Contents

Night in her dark array

Steals o’er the ocean,

And with departed day

Hushed seems its motion.

Slowly o’er yon blue coast

Onward she’s treading,

’Till its dark line is lost,

’Neath her veil spreading.

The bark on the rippling deep

Hath found a pillow,

And the pale moonbeams sleep

On the green billow.

Bound by her emerald zone

Venice is lying,

And round her marble crown

Night winds are sighing.

From the high lattice now

Bright eyes are gleaming,

That seem on night’s dark brow

Brighter stars beaming.

Now o’er the bright lagune

Light barks are dancing,

And ’neath the silver moon

Swift oars are glancing.

Strains from the mandolin

Steal o’er the water,

Echo replies between

To mirth and laughter.

O’er the wave seen afar

Brilliantly shining,

Gleams like a fallen star

Venice reclining.

TO MISS ---

Table of Contents

Time beckons on the hours: the expiring year

Already feels old Winter’s icy breath;

As with cold hands, he scatters on her bier

The faded glories of her Autumn wreath.

As fleetly as the Summer’s sunshine past,

The Winter’s snow must melt; and the young Spring,

Strewing the earth with flowers, will come at last,

And in her train the hour of parting bring.

But, though I leave the harbour, where my heart

Sometime had found a peaceful resting-place,

Where it lay calmly moored; though I depart,

Yet, let not time my memory quite efface.

’Tis true, I leave no void, the happy home

To which you welcomed me, will be as gay,

As bright, as cheerful, when I’ve turned to roam,

Once more, upon life’s weary onward way.

But oh! if ever by the warm hearth’s blaze,

Where beaming eyes